


Talk It Out, Wash It Away.

by DryCereal



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, So it all ended up ok, TATINOF, These two need to look after their eyes, because i can't help myself, but Dan got to eat his FUCKING muffin, travelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryCereal/pseuds/DryCereal
Summary: One nearly blinds himself with an aerosol, one's just blinded by a different kind of irritation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Dan: “I’m very confident in my own abilities to get ready five minutes before we leave, and your problem is you… erm…you freak out a lot, so even though I know that we’ll definitely be on time when we’re both leaving for somewhere, err, maybe I can get ready earlier just so you don’t freak out as much about us maybe being late.”
> 
> (R1 #TalkItOut campaign, Oct 2013)
> 
>  
> 
> ...To be fair though, Phil promised to stop eating his cereal in that same conversation, so...!!!!

He's **not** going to be the one who speaks first. He's just not.

 

He's too wound up, and he doesn't _quite_ trust himself not to snap. Yet. And the last thing he wants is to cause a scene in the middle of the departure lounge. There'll be time enough for quiet apologies and talking things over on the flight. Which they _have_ made it in time to catch, despite him having feared the worst and inwardly panicked at every red traffic light and rear brake light between home and the airport.

 

Anyway. They've made it. And since neither of them seemed to have had any interest in exploring the duty free or the other shops in the terminal, they've actually made it to the gate well before boarding starts.

 

Dan's been virtually silent since they left home. Apart from murmured responses to the staff at check-in and security, he's not uttered a sound, and instead of leading the way through the terminal, automatically stopping at their usual choices for snacks and wandering through the shops, he'd followed Phil through the terminal like a shadow, head down, clearly trying to avoid attracting any attention from any possible source. Which, whilst they generally avoided causing a scene, or being spotted whilst out and about, wasn't by any means normal behaviour from either of them.

 

Either Dan thinks he's still mad (he's not, anymore) or he's feeling guilty about once again leaving everything to the last minute. This was probably the most extreme example of that particular little quirk in his personality though. What normally was a minor niggle and would cause Phil to huff with mild exasperation had, today, led to yelling, and choice phrases Phil now felt guilty about, and had probably caused their neighbours to raise their eyebrows.

 

Like they hadn't heard worse in return. Still, Phil's not exactly proud of his behaviour earlier. And he will apologise. He was sensible enough to realise at the time that throwing a complete fit wasn’t helping the situation, but he was just too stressed and irritated to hold his tongue as Dan was rushing round the house like a tornado, with a car hopefully still waiting outside.

 

The final straw had been the loud crash sound emanating from the bathroom, accompanied by a muffled screech. Actually, it had probably been Dan’s reappearance in the bathroom doorway, (after Phil had called to ask if he was okay, worriedly heading down the stairs towards the bathroom) toothpaste visible in the corner of his mouth, and replied _just_ a little too chirpily “one minute!” before slamming the door in his face.  
  
  
Definitely the moment he’d given up any scrap of patience remaining. He hadn’t stopped yelling… _things_ … until Dan reopened the door, took a running leap past Phil up the stairs, ran along the hallway to his room, and reappeared seconds later dragging his own suitcase, backpack in his other hand.  
  
  
They were sat in the taxi pulling away from the house less than two minutes later, both panting from what would probably always be a record time getting downstairs and out of the house. And probably a little bit of panic, with, on Phil’s side, residual anger mixed in.

 

"Phil..?"

 

His head shoots up to face Dan before he's aware he's been spoken to. It's an instinctive reaction to the voice he's grown used to, heard practically every day for the past seven years.

 

Right now it sounds hesitant, worried. Confirmed by the expression on Dan's face, and the fact that he's still not _quite_ making eye contact. Phil feels a pang of guilt erupt from somewhere between his chest and his stomach, because although he couldn’t remember what he’d said with any sort of clarity, he immediately suspects that Dan has taken it to heart by the way he’s looking right now. He needs to fix this, **now**. They can’t start the tour like this. No way.

 

"It's ok Dan. We're here, we made it on time, I'm not mad. I'm sorry about before I just... You know me. I'm sorry. We're ok, right?"

 

The words are hushed, just for them, even if they are surrounded by a crowd, and spoken quickly, to the beat of the monologue of _"not here, not now notherenotnownotherenotnow please pleasepleaseplease"_ rattling through his mind as his gaze locks on the face of his boyfriend.

 

Dan's lips give the briefest twitch upwards as Phil apologises, before he swallows nervously and inhales shakily before replying quietly.

 

"We're fine. But... but I'm no-"

 

He doesn't let him finish. Can't. _Won't._

" **No** Dan, it's my fault. I was being an idiot earlier. I thought we were going to be late or the taxi would leave without us, but I was overreacting and I'm sorry. I am."

 

"Phil. It's not that. Even though it is my fault, and I'm sorry. But I..."

 

He trails off.

 

"I can't see."

 

Wait. _What?!_

He's not sure if he said the words aloud, but either way Dan is continuing. Words spilling out in a rush, continuing to speed up until they're a match for the torrent of thoughts swirling around inside Phil’s head.

 

Something about deodorant. And everything suddenly slams into place in Phil's mind and oh. Oh bloody hell no. Not again.

 

He's done it _again._

 

Wait. Now is not the time. Sort Dan first.

 

"Hey, _hey_. Dan. Stop a minute. There's toilets over there. Go rinse your eye out as much as you can. I'm... I'll think of what to do next while you're there. Don't worry, it's going to be okay."

 

He takes a steadying breath, then a second as he watches Dan weave his way to the entrance of the toilets, then unlocks his phone and opens the browser.  
  
  
“Aerosol in eye” only brings up warnings about not spraying the damn things in your eyes. Not helpful. After a couple more searches, it seems like the best course of action is to rinse out the affected area with saline solution. He takes a moment to curse the regulations about hand luggage, and the fact he’s packed all his contact lens stuff in his hold baggage, and elected to travel with just his glasses, but reassures himself that tap water probably won’t do any harm. Still. It’s worth trying to get a bit more information, just in case, if Dan isn’t right when he comes back.  
  
  
He can’t believe this is happening again. He was still kicking himself over not realising how sick Dan was towards the end of the USA tour, and afterwards, trying to talk him out of going to the doctor, stupidly assuming it was nothing worse than their normal dose of Vidcon / Meetup plague.  
  
  
Especially if he lets himself think back to how caring and attentive Dan was when he got sick at the beginning of the tour… “No.” He thinks. “Comparing the two isn’t helping. But I _am_ going to fix this.” And Dan is **not** getting on that plane if he’s not okay.  
  
  
He stands up and makes his way over to the toilets, just in time to nearly collide with Dan as he emerges from the doorway. One look at his face tells him he’s not okay. Not at all.  
  
  
Without even thinking, he takes hold of his arm and leads him over to a quieter area of the lounge and sits him down. Dials 111 on his phone, hits call and presses it into Dan’s hand with an encouraging smile. Takes hold of Dan’s free hand and gives it a squeeze (though truth be told, he’s not sure which one of them it’s to reassure) as he listens to Dan’s side of the call, scanning the area for the appearance of the airport or airline staff, as he’s fairly certain at this point they may be heading to A &E this evening, not Hong Kong. Not that that’s at all important – they’ve got days before they need to be in Perth for the first show, so what if they have to cancel or cut short their layover in the city. They can always explore the place on their way home.  
  
  
Just as he’s resigned himself to an evening of uncomfortable hospital waiting room seating, worry, and rearranging travel plans, he spots a familiar blue and white sign a little way down the row of shops lining one side of the lounge. He nudges Dan’s shoulder and points to it.  
  
  
Seconds later they’re up and hurrying towards the store, Dan having pretty much hung up on the NHS advice line mid-sentence. Once inside the shop, they raid the shelves for anything even vaguely eye-related, pay at the till, and hurry back towards an empty row of seats.  
  
  
“Lie down” he instructs Dan, whilst ripping open the packaging of a bottle of saline solution, praying to any deities who might be taking an interest that something in this bag will work. He tilts Dan’s face so that the liquid will run towards the outer corner of his eye, then starts squeezing drop after drop carefully as Dan blinks repeatedly.  
  
  
He soon realises that it’s not just the eye he’s rinsing that’s filling with liquid, as Dan stares straight at him, biting his lip to try and prevent it quivering. He pauses for a second, brushes his fingers through the brown fringe and pushes it back a bit further before trailing his fingers down the side of his face as he whispers comforting nonsense to his boyfriend in a soothing voice.  
  
  
By the time the small bottle is empty, he can see to his relief that the eye looks less red – they both do. He picks out another package of “soothing” eye drops and squeezes a couple of drops into Dan’s eye before helping him sit up on the bench. Doesn’t resist the urge to quickly envelop Dan’s frame in a quick hug as he murmurs “Better?” into his ear before squeezing him tightly and drawing back, receiving a nod and a small smile in return.  
  
  
They grab their bags, and head back towards their gate in time to join the back of the queue for boarding the plane. Even though they’ve just been stopped by a subscriber for a quick chat and a selfie, they’re pressed close together with Phil’s hand on the small of Dan’s back until they’re sat in their seats. Privacy and secrecy be damned. Sometimes.  
  
  
He flops down into his seat with a sigh of relief, and looks across to Dan, who is opening a small box that looks like it’s been kicked from one side of the airport to the other.  
  
  
“Dan, surely you can’t…” He trails off as Dan looks up with mixed expression of embarrassment and determination.  
  
  
“Phil. I. Am. Eating. This. Muffin.”  
  
  
They stare at each other in silence for a good three seconds.  
  
  
Phil cracks first, letting loose a giggle as he waves his hand in good-humoured dismissal and turns away as Dan scoops a pinch of smushed-up cake crumbs into his mouth with a satisfied grin.  
  
  
They’re just fine. Everything’s fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Eeesh! This one took a while! Probably found it harder going cos it's less fluffy than the others!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> (And yes. Yes I have just uploaded two fics in 6 hours. This one's just a bit longer though...!)


End file.
